Sunday, November 06, 2011
On this peaceful Sunday I took Bill for a ride down to Rehoboth Beach early this morning. I haven't "walked the boards" (i.e., walked on the boardwalk) all summer. Now that the summer crowds are gone, I could do a straight shot down Route 1 to Rehoboth Beach, which is ten miles from where we live north on Route 1.
Bill doesn't like to walk, so while he waited in my car I walked one end of the boardwalk to the other end. That is a mile. I think I'm out of shape because I am now sore all over, especially in my buttocks (ass). However, it is a good sore. Reminds me of the times in high school when I used to go out for track. Those first few days of calisthenics and running around the track let this 17 year old mighty sore.
After I finished my walk I drove us to North Shores, which is a beach a few miles north of Rehoboth Beach and part of Cape Henlopen State Park. During the summer the road to this beach is lined with bicyclists and walkers all headed for a Day at the Beach. Not today, we had the road all to ourselves.
The waves were rolling pretty good at North Shores. Here on the Atlantic coast, we don't get the big waves unless there is a nor'easter roaring through or a hurricane. No storms today, just an active ocean. There is some sort of primal pleasure I get from hearing the waves roll in. Bill says it does nothing for him, he prefers the wooded hills of Pennsylvania, our previous home. I like the woods too but I much prefer the sights and sound of living near the ocean. I love hearing the seagulls and the smell of the salt air.
After talking a few videos we headed home again, another day of Domestic Bliss for me and my loving partner of forty-seven years. On days like this I think of my neighbor Don who just lost his partner Al. They were together forty years. We can see Don's house from our house. We drifted apart as friends a few years ago but I still feel sorry for Don. He's in his big house all alone now. Of course I know a lot of gay guys who live alone but it must be especially tough when you've been with someone as many years as Don and Al were together. I wonder how I would cope if I lost Bill. I just don't know.
I'm feeling a little guilty about posting the "Judge Beats Daughter" blog but I felt I must post it. For too long beating children has been an accepted part of our culture. Maybe making this horrendous act public will cause some parents to pause and reconsider how to discipline their children. I certainly hope and pray so.
In my blog I related my personal experiences with my own upbringing. Of course that wasn't my only experience with children being beaten. Bill has horror stories of his own to tell. He got beaten so bad by his step father that he ran away from home when he was only a young child. When he got caught his step-father locked him in a closet all day. Bill said that was worse than the beatings he used to get. Then there were my cousins Jackie and Charlie who had the alcoholic father. We were visiting them once when their father came down in a drunken rage and both Jackie and Charlie went running because they knew they where going to get beat. There are other stories that I won't go into here.
Maybe, just maybe some potential child beater parent will see now that it is socially unacceptable to discipline their child by beating them. And for a judge to do beat his child, totally unacceptable. That judge should be sent to jail for child abuse. But the really scary thing is how many people still approve of disciplining children by beating them. That has to change. I think it will change.
So we had a peaceful Sunday here. Tomorrow I'll try to plant my fall bulbs. Tuesday is a visit to my VA doctor. Then back to work Wednesday and Thursday. I have to tell you, I'm not in the holiday mood this year. I don't know why other than perhaps because it's this prostate Thing hanging over my head. I get the biopsies taken on January 6th. Happy New Year.
Yes, that is Bill walking away from the camera at the end of the video. He didn't want his picture taken. He puts up with a lot from me. He's a saint.